the angels | w2s

ever

"everything has an ending," i stated abruptly.

"even this?" harry asked, as if he was curious. as if he didn't already know the answer.

there was more to him, i was sure of it.

"even this," i continued confidently, even if i couldn't have been more unsure. "everything has an ending. life ending is the final ending. or — it should've been."

"are you okay?" harry asked, approaching wearily. he offered me his hand. i took it.

"i'm supposed to be dead," i whispered hoarsely. my eyes were burning, ready to spill acidic tears. i didn't want them to fall on harry and burn him. "i am dead, though, aren't i? but why is death just an extension of life? why is this eternal? i want to be dead. dead. asleep."

harry breathed in deeply and began rubbing soothing circles on the back of my hand. "you still dream when you sleep, merry."

"and you have bloody nightmares, too, don't you?" i replied bitterly. the tears were really threatening to spill now.

"but i'm far too handsome to have nightmares about."

his hand had left mine and they now wrapped me tightly in a hug. we swayed a little.

"but i'm not asleep, am i, harry? i'm dead. and death is sucking even more than life right now."